Sir Anthony and the Dragon
by Milliecake
Summary: Tony and King Wendell go in search of a dragon...


Disclaimer: I don't own the Tenth Kingdom, I'm just borrowing it for a while.  
  
Author's Note: Feel free to R&R (but you don't have to), just bare in mind this is my first 10K fic and that I had the flu when writing it.  
  
  
  
  
The day was filled with hazy sunshine, the air warm and lethargic as Tony Lewis nudged his horse forward through the long grasses. Bees buzzed contentedly through the meadow's wild flowers, collecting their precious pollen and Tony found himself smiling at their industry. A few weeks ago, he had been exactly like them, working hard for a pittance and a place to stay, keeping his mouth shut and his head down when Murray, his boss, was around.  
  
Tony's grin grew happily wider as he recalled the little weasel calling him 'Master'. He briefly wondered where Murray and his family were now. Had they recovered from the dragon-dung bean's spell, or were they still wandering around Murray's building like a bunch of zombie-eyed cultists, awaiting their 'Master's' return.  
  
Permitting himself a small chuckle, Tony glanced around at his companions. Sitting astride a white hunter, with all the confidence of one born to the saddle, was King Wendell. The younger man was perched with regal poise on the stallion beneath him, a contented smile of his own across his handsome features.  
  
A muffled bark drew Tony's attention downwards, to see the dog, Prince, chasing an insect into a large crop of grass, much to the displeasure of Tony's horse, which rolled a baleful eye down at the canine. Prince emerged a moment later, soil and leaves dotted across his muzzle. He shook himself, then tore off with an excited bark as he spotted more playmates to chase.  
  
"A perfect day, Anthony," Wendell commented.  
  
"Ah, yes, your Majesty," Tony replied, still watching the dog's antics.  
  
"Far too nice to be spent inside," Wendell continued.  
  
"Absolutely," Tony agreed. He gave the King a curious look. "Is something wrong, your Majesty?"  
  
"Wrong?" Wendell echoed, lightly. "What could be wrong on such a day like this?"  
  
What indeed? Tony thought. Glorious sunshine, no traffic, no pollution, no Murray demanding he fix this, fix that. Half a year ago, even in his wildest dreams, he could never have imagine this was where he would be. Back then, his dreams were filled with a large, surprising lottery win.  
  
But Tony had been around Wendell long enough to know something was bothering the young King.  
  
"Not what you expected, huh?" Tony asked him. "Being King."  
  
Wendell gave him a surprised glance, then sighed. "Not really, no," he confided, almost shyly, in his perfect, aristocratic accent. "To be completely truthful, Anthony, it's...dull."  
  
Prince came bounding back to them, barking gleefully, then, in a whirlwind of fur and tail, was off again, chasing game.  
  
"All day long, I'm signing papers, settling disputes," Wendell continued. "I thought it would be more..."  
  
He trailed off, but Tony finished the thought. "Like when we were trying to find the mirror and fighting the Queen."  
  
Wendell gave him a wry smile. "When I was a dog and chasing my own tail," he added. "It's silly, I know." He sighed again, gazing wistfully at the towering mountains that rose up in the distance.  
  
Tony didn't know what to say. He couldn't ask for more as Sir Anthony the Valiant. He had beautiful women swooning over him, servants and maids to cater to his every whim. In truth, Tony was utterly content. No more adventures for him, no more questing across kingdoms searching for mirrors, no more trolls or goblins or ex-wives. No more...  
  
His thoughts were cut off as a scream echoed across the meadow. Prince paused in his search for beetles, his ears pricking up. The scream came again and without a second thought, Wendell spurred his horse forward.  
  
"Uh, Your Majesty!" Tony called to the departing King's back. "Shouldn't we get help?"  
  
"Anthony, we are the help," Wendell countered, over one shoulder.  
  
Tony nudged his reluctant mount forward, awkwardly following the rapidly disappearing King. He didn't want to know who was screaming, or why they were screaming in the first place. But if something were to happen to Wendell while he was in Tony's company, Tony had no doubt who would receive the blame.  
  
"Your Majesty!" Tony called. "Wendell! Wait up!"  
  
Prince dashed by, barking madly, as it followed Wendell's lead.  
  
"Ssh!" Tony hissed at it. No sense in advertising their presence. "Shut up!"  
  
But Prince ignored him and plunged fearlessly into the copse of trees ahead. With more caution, Tony followed suit.  
  
He found the dog sitting quietly, tongue lolling and dribbling saliva. Wendell's horse was standing listlessly to one side, its saddle empty. Close by, King Wendell was holding something in his arms. Something with gold spun hair and pale skin and a heaving bosom.  
  
"Your Majesty?" Tony began, but Wendell held up a hand for quiet.  
  
The King gently disentangled himself from the girl before him and she blinked, large drops of tears rolling down her cheeks.  
  
"Can you tell us what happened?" Wendell asked her firmly, but gently, and she nodded slowly.  
  
"I was picking flowers," she began, "for the Summer Fair, when..." she paused, taking such a deep, gulping breath that Tony was half-afraid her chest would escape from her bodice, "I saw smoke and flames rising from a nearby cave. Then I heard a monstrous noise coming from within and I-I ran."  
  
Her eyes welled prettily and she descended once more into heart-rending tears. Wendell, ever the gentleman, proffered her his handkerchief.   
  
"I want you to do something for me," Wendell told the girl, gravely, and she nodded, wide-eyed. "I want you to run down the hill as fast as you can and summon help. Can you do that?"  
  
"Yes, your Majesty," she said, breathlessly, turning to run. She paused and turned back to the young King, falling into a sweeping curtsey and taking one of his hands. "Be careful, Sire."  
  
She gazed up at him with huge, adoring eyes, then she was gone through the trees, as quick as a startled doe. Tony watched her go.  
  
"Your Majesty, if I may ask," he began, "why aren't we following her?"  
  
"Did you hear that Anthony?" Wendell asked, mounting his horse and ignoring Tony's question. "What manner of creature has the ability to burn all that goes before it, whose roar can make the mountains tremble?"  
  
"My mother-in-law?" Tony suggested.  
  
"A dragon! Sir Anthony," Wendell replied, excitedly, tightening his grip on his horse's reins. "A dragon has come to the Fourth Kingdom."  
  
A dragon? "What exactly does that mean, Your Majesty?" Tony asked, carefully.  
  
Wendell wheeled his mount around and fixed Tony with a keen, blue-eyed gaze. "Adventure, Sir Anthony!" he pronounced, jauntily, drawing the ceremonially sword he carried. "You and I are off to slay a dragon!"  
  
"What?!" Tony squeaked, then brought his voice back under control, managing a more solemn, gravely-wise tone. "I mean... Pardon, your Majesty? Surely this is an unwise course of act..."  
  
But Wendell wasn't listening. The King had turned his horse and was even now heading in the direction the girl had come from.  
  
"Perhaps I should go with the girl," Tony continued, managing to sound disappointed at the thought of missing out on all the dragon-slaying fun. "Make sure she gets home safe..."  
  
"Come along, Anthony," Wendell called back, firmly.  
  
"Well at least let's wait for help," Tony suggested, reasonably, desperately.  
  
Wendell didn't slow his course, didn't even look back.  
  
Tony glanced desperately around the woods, looking for some reason to head in the opposite direction. But Wendell's sudden, suicidal madness had left little room for escape.  
  
Prince, tail wagging enthusiastically, barked, then took off after the King.  
  
"Great," Tony called after it. "Take his side, why don't you."  
  
With a resigned sigh, he coaxed his horse forward, following the dog. With any luck, the dragon would eat Wendell, then Tony could go home.  
  
  
  
  
"You do remember the dragon bones we came across outside the Dwarves' Kingdom, right?" Tony asked Wendell as they rode side by side. "Big bones...huge bones!"  
  
"I remember," Wendell replied, quietly.  
  
"I only ask because you were, you know, a D.O.G." Tony spelled the word out. When Wendell didn't respond, Tony continued. "Bones this big." He held his arms as wide as he could. "Maybe bigger."  
  
"Anthony," Wendell said. "I am getting the distinct feeling you don't want to do this."  
  
"Are you kidding?" Tony replied, sarcastically. "This is my idea of fun! Creeping up on some huge, fire-breathing monster with jaws big enough to crush me in one bite, then jumping out with an itty-bitty sword and trying to kill it."  
  
"Good, it's settled then," was all Wendell said.   
  
Where was Virginia when he needed her most? Tony thought, wildly. She of the practical disposition could have talked some sense into the King. Or, at least, got her father off the hook.  
  
"We're close," Wendell said, then pointed to a dark, smoking hole in the mountain-side. "There Sir Anthony! There we shall find glory and great renown."  
  
"We already have that," Tony pointed out, but Wendell refused to listen to reason.  
  
"Our heroics shall be heralded throughout the Ten Kingdoms!"  
  
"Nine Kingdoms," Tony corrected, miserably. "I don't think they count dragon-slaying as a sport where I come from."  
  
But Wendell was already off his horse and striding confidently to the cave entrance, his sword gripped in one hand and sparkling in the sun.  
  
"There's really no need to worry so much, Anthony," Wendell called over to the older man, absently. "Dragons haven't been seen in my Kingdom, in any Kingdom, in well over a hundred years."  
  
A belch of black smoke drifted lazily out of the cave making the King cough and the horses suddenly nervous.  
  
"Please, Your Majesty," Tony pleaded. "We might get killed."  
  
"Pish-tosh," Wendell replied, breezily. Then turned back to confide in his companion, "Knights do this sort of thing all the time. How hard can it be?"  
  
With a weary sigh, Tony slid off his own horse, landing heavily and with less grace than the King. He watched nervously as Wendell entered the cave.  
  
"I'm not going in, your Majesty!" he called, crossing his arms defiantly. Wendell could strip him of his title for all he cared - he was not going to end up as some dragon's barbecued snack.  
  
There was no answer.  
  
"Please, your Majesty!" he called, desperately. He really, really, didn't want Wendell to end up eaten. Despite Wendell's patronising manner, his snooty accent, the flag pole that seemed permanently shoved up his royal...Well, despite all that, Tony liked the young man. After everything they had been through together, Tony had come to admire the once spoilt, arrogant, whining, young prince. Besides, he was planning on returning to New York soon and he could just imagine the conversation with his daughter. "Hi Virginia, how are you? How was the Fourth Kingdom, you ask. Oh, everything's great back there. Well, except for Wendell getting killed and all. You see, there was this dragon..."  
  
And then Virginia would give him the 'look'. The one that asked why her father was such a perpetual screw-up.  
  
  
  
  
King Wendell White pushed bravely through the smoke, putting one hand to his mouth to block out the acrid smell. No dragon would be permitted in his Kingdom, he thought, determinedly, on his soil, scaring his peasants.  
  
Lifting the sword, he waved it through the smoke, hoping to clear his sight, and was gratified when the smog began to settle somewhat and light came through from a hole in the cave's high ceiling. He wandered further into the darkness when his foot struck something, something that skittered away from him, but revealed a flash of silver as it did so.  
  
Wendell took a deep breath. He was inside the dragon's lair. The smoke haze cleared a little more and now Wendell could see a red, scaled body, curled protectively around a hoard of glittering treasure.  
  
Now what? he thought, glancing about the cavern. Should he announce his presence and prepare to do battle? Simply walking up to creature and stabbing it seemed a trifle dishonourable, almost cowardly. Perhaps he should ask Anthony the best course of...  
  
A rumble like thunder stilled his thoughts and the cave suddenly began to shake. Staggering to keep his balance, Wendell looked over at the dragon and his eyes widened in shock.  
  
Big bones, Anthony had said. Huge bones.  
  
The dragon was enormous as it stretched its long neck to the ceiling, then tilted its gaze down to take in the young King. It's great body shifted, sending another tremor through the cave.  
  
"Who comes to steal my treasures?" it demanded, its booming voice threatening to collapse the ceiling around them. Tiny flames flickered around the corners of its mouth, while its ruby red eyes stared malevolently at the intruder.  
  
Wendell, gathering his courage, drew himself to his full height, which seemed puny in comparison to the dragon. "I am King Wendell White, ruler of the Fourth Kingdom!" he pronounced. Or tried to. His voice betrayed him, the words coming out high and uneven. Clearing his voice, he tried again. "I ask that you depart these lands and never return. Or I will be forced to kill you."  
  
Somehow, that was seeming less and less likely now. Oh why hadn't he listened to Anthony?  
  
The dragon's head slid down and down until it was but inches away from the King's face. Wendell could smell cooked meat underlying its foul breath. Gripping the sword more tightly, he bade a farewell to the world and attacked.  
  
  
  
  
Another belch of smoke rising out of the cave startled Tony, followed by a deafening roar. His horse reared and bolted before he could grab the reins and Tony froze, peering into the darkness in fear. Had the dragon eaten the King already and was even now looking for dessert?  
  
"Your Majesty?" Tony asked, creeping quietly to the entrance. "Wendell?"  
  
He put his head inside, choking on thick, rancid smoke. He felt something brush by his leg and yelped, clutching at his chest. He glanced down to see the dog, which looked up at him with utter fearlessness and an expression devoid of intelligence. Tony knew that look -the King had been wearing it when he entered the cave.  
  
"Get out of here while you still can," he suggested to the dog.  
  
But the dog gave him a blank look then continued on into the cave, nose to the ground.  
  
"Wendell!" Tony hissed, inching further into the cave. "Oh, please don't do this to me!"  
  
Maybe the cave was empty? he thought. Like the Dwarves' Kingdom. Put a dragon's skeleton outside, make a few terrifying noises, just enough to scare off the locals, et voila - a few acres of land all to yourself.  
  
Buoyed by the thought, Tony straightened and strode purposefully into the cavern. Wendell would feel like an idiot, Tony told himself, to have been chasing nothing but shadows. "There's nothing here," he said, aloud, peering through the smoke. "No razor-fanged, foul-smelling, hobbit-eating, fire-breathing..."  
  
He halted as he saw Wendell, lying slumped and unconscious against a wall, a giant, scaly head inches away from his face.  
  
"...dragon," Tony finished, in a squeak.  
  
He instinctively covered his mouth even as he said the words, but the creature's sharp ears caught the sounds. It lifted its great head and fixed him with a look he had seen all too often in Wolf's eyes - raw hunger. Tony felt the blood drain from his face and he closed his eyes against its cold stare.  
  
"Another come to steal my treasure!" the dragon hissed.  
  
Tony cracked one eye open. Treasure? No one had said anything to him about treasure.  
  
"Uh, excuse me, dragon, Sir," he began, as humbly as he could. "Treasure?"  
  
Then he saw it all. Huge piles of gold and silver, and jewels that were multicoloured and beyond count.  
  
"Holy moly..." Tony breathed. He sensed the dragon's gaze upon him and quickly erased the look of greed he knew must be plastered on his face. Putting on his most ingratiating smile, he continued, "I mean, that's a heap of treasure you got there, sir dragon."  
  
The dragon twisted its head down to regard the man before it, which was far closer than Tony would have liked. Beating back an urge to gag at the smell of its rotten breath, Tony kept his smile fixed firmly in place.  
  
"What of my treasure?" the dragon asked, curiously.  
  
"Just that there's so much of it!" Tony said. He gave a nervous laugh. "I mean, wow!"  
  
The dragon's chest puffed out somewhat with pride.  
  
"It must have taken you years to collect all this stuff," Tony continued, sensing he was on a roll. "It's all the good stuff too." He bent down, picking up bits and pieces of treasure that could have bought Murray's entire building back in New York. "You've got, what, silver here, gold, and hey, what's this, a crown!"  
  
The dragon's eyes were glittering in undisguised pride. "Do you like it?" it asked, almost bashfully.  
  
"Like it?" Tony breathed. "It's incredible!" He sat back on his heels and rubbed his chin, frowning. "But know..."  
  
"Yes?" the dragon asked, curious, sidling closer.  
  
"It's not really working for you, is it?" Tony said.  
  
"Working for me...?" The dragon's voice was hesitant.  
  
"You know, getting a little something back from it," Tony continued, thoughtfully. "Here you are, literally sitting on a pile of treasure, that could otherwise be earning you big bucks."  
  
"Big deer?" The dragon was obviously completely confused now.  
  
Tony rose and permitted himself a small chuckle, ruefully shaking his head at the dragon's obvious lack of financial cunning. "You know," he told the creature, "today is your lucky day. You ever heard of...investment?"  
  
  
  
  
  
King Wendell stirred groggily and put a hand to his aching head.  
  
"...so you see, you get a massive 7.4% interest back."  
  
That sounded like Anthony's voice, Wendell realised, muzzily. Opening his eyes, he was forced to blink quite a few times before the world came back into focus. When he did, his eyes widened in utter surprise.  
  
Anthony was sitting on a chest in the centre of the dragon's hoard, the great beast curled in a circle around the large man. But far from cowering in terror, Anthony was actually conversing with the creature.  
  
"I mean, take the gold for instance," Anthony was saying. "Put that in a bank and you could get massive returns."  
  
He was consulting a note-pad, a pencil tucked behind one ear, while the dragon leaned over his shoulder to observe.  
  
"But if I invest my treasure," the dragon replied, cautiously, "what will I sleep on?"  
  
Anthony laughed, actually laughed!, at the dragon's words.  
  
"What couldn't you sleep on!" Anthony said. "With this kind of money, you could sleep on anything you wanted! Satin, silk, velvet..."  
  
"Quicksilver," the dragon breathed, dreamily.  
  
"Exactly," Tony said, with a proud smile. "Now you've got the idea. And I haven't even started on shares and bonds..."  
  
"Anthony!" Wendell called, attempting to stand.  
  
Anthony glanced at him, then quickly got to his feet. "Be with you in a minute, Your Kingship!" he called. "I'll be right back," he told the dragon, slipping and sliding down the gold and silver trinkets beneath his feet.  
  
Helping Wendell to stand, Anthony started to brush the indignant young King down. But Wendell was angry, no, furious! His dignity all but gone, he straightened his white uniform and glared at the man.  
  
"Anthony, I demand to know what is going on."  
  
"Ah well, Your Majesty," Tony began, amiably, "it started like this..."  
  
  
  
  
  
King Wendell White descended from the mountain on his steed, Sir Anthony walking at his side, while the dog kept solemn pace for once. Anthony was happily whistling a strange tune, then half-singing under his breath something concerning 'money, money, money.' He appeared satisfied with the outcome of their encounter with the dragon.  
  
"Anthony, must you continue with that dreadful song?" Wendell demanded, at last.  
  
"Hey, I don't know why you're so peeved," Tony said, sensing the King's foul mood. "The dragon's leaving in a couple of days and he's promised not to eat anybody before then. I just don't see what the problem is."  
  
They were almost down the mountain when they heard the fanfare. Trumpet and drums were echoing over the meadows, preceded by mounted nobility and, behind them, a procession of the local towns folk.  
  
"Look, look!" came an excited cry from one of the people. "There he is! King Wendell the Dragon Slayer!"  
  
A chorus of cheers went up over the field as the nobility rode forward to greet their conquering King. Wendell, for his part, looked uncomfortably embarrassed.  
  
"Sire," Lord Rupert said, bowing in the saddle with an exaggerated flourish. "If I may be the first to offer my congratulations!"  
  
"And I, You Majesty," agreed another, waving a lace handkerchief. "To have slain a dragon...I do fear the knights of the Kingdom will be out of a job."  
  
This caused a ripple of laughter throughout the crowd, but they fell quiet when Wendell held up a hand for silence.  
  
"People of the Fourth Kingdom," he announced, pitching his voice to be heard across the meadow. "No dragon was slain today."  
  
This caused a murmur of doubt in the crowd, and people began to eye their King doubtfully.  
  
Taking pity on Wendell, Tony stepped forward. "Because," he said, loudly, catching their attention, "your King was too merciful. He agreed to spare the dragon's life if it departed these lands."  
  
"Anthony, I did no such thing..."  
  
Tony reached up and caught hold of the King's arm, all the while smiling at the crowd. "He's so modest, really. What a guy."  
  
"Oh Your Majesty," Lord Rupert said. "You are as compassionate as you are brave."  
  
The crowd began cheering again, waving banners and throwing confetti before their King.  
  
Wendell forced a smile. "Thank you Sir Anthony," he said, politely, between clenched teeth. "I really must remember to reward you for this."  
  
"Oh, no thanks necessary, Your Royalness," Tony said, feeling smug. "Just doing my job."  
  
He stepped away from the crowd as they surged forward to congratulate their King and began heading back towards town. With any luck, Wendell would be too busy with fawning courtiers to give Anthony his 'reward'.  
  
He whistled for Prince, who obediently came running, tail wagging furiously as if it had a life of its own. Tony reached down and absently scratched the mutt behind its ears.  
  
"Well, what a day boy," he told the dog, who trotted at his heels. "What a tale to tell Virginia when I get back." He shook his head, smiling. "Not that she'll ever believe it. I almost don't believe it myself and I was there."  
  
The dog cocked its head and glanced up at its master.  
  
"Sir Anthony and the Dragon," Tony said, speculatively. "Sounds good, huh boy?"  
  
The dog barked once, then wandered off to sniff at a flower.  
  
"Yeah," Tony murmured to himself, smiling. "Sir Anthony and the Dragon."  
  
  



End file.
